


Burn the kingdom down

by theycallmesuperboy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Dark wedge, Darkside AU, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sith Luke Skywalker, TIE fighter pilot Wedge Antilles, dark Luke Skywalker, dark side au, mild evil violence, with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theycallmesuperboy/pseuds/theycallmesuperboy
Summary: Luke leaned back against the TIE's wing. Instead of answering the pilot’s question, the Sith asked, “What’s your name, pilot?”“Captain Wedge Antilles, of the Imperial Navy.”Luke stood straighter when he realized he recognized the pilot’s name, if not his face.So this is the pilot that even the Emperor knows the name of?Luke thought. He’d heard of the unkillable Wedge Antilles. He’d been the only TIE pilot to survive the destruction of the first Death Star.Dark Side AU





	Burn the kingdom down

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a bad person.
> 
> Anyway, this is finally finished. I am so tired of reading this. Also I am so tired. Maybe look for more fanfics in the coming weeks? I was disappointed with Luke in TLJ, so I'll probably stick to OT timeline still lol. 
> 
> Photosets [here](http://baegarrick.tumblr.com/post/160100092412/lukewedge-dark-side-au-wedge-antilles-never-left). And [here](http://baegarrick.tumblr.com/post/168696231642/burn-the-kingdom-down-dark-side-au-16k-luke).

The TIE fighters in the hangar bay were brand new, probably right off the factory line on Lothal, Luke thought. Luke had seen the factory himself just a couple of months back on his tour around the Empire with his father. They’d just arrived back on Coruscant two days ago, and after meeting with the Emperor, Luke had been sent to the Death Star. Well, the second Death Star. He’d seen the rough shape of it as the Lambda-class shuttle had pulled out of hyperspace. It didn’t look much like the first one, the one Luke had once had a hand in destroying. But he’d been told this one was much more fortified, and would be finished much sooner than the twenty years the last one had taken to build.

His father would be following shortly, he was told. For now, he was to familiarize himself with the under-construction Death Star, and await future orders from the Emperor. Unlike his father, he was to be based aboard the Death Star for convenience, sent on any missions directly from the battle station with TIE escorts. Unofficially, Luke suspected he was also there to intimidate the workers into hurrying up the construction. Luke didn’t mind, he’d always preferred the cold of space to any planet.

When he’d arrived, there had been a procession for him where he’d been met by Commander Tiaan Jerjerrod, who had been eager to show him to the command center of the vessel and then the reports of its construction. Luke had been thoroughly unimpressed, but he wasn’t there in any official capacity towards the construction, so he’d ordered the man to show him his personal quarters and told him he’d be sure to inform the Emperor of their progress. Instead, he’d headed back to the hangar bay. The procession had since scattered. He could still see the TIE pilots and the Stormtroopers scattered around the hangar bay, two troopers standing near his own ship. Luke would have preferred to fly himself, but the Emperor told him that these things demanded a show of power.

The transparisteel viewport of the TIE fighter before him was so reflective that Luke could see himself looking up into it, face warped from the sleek curve of the machine. He'd always admired the TIEs, the way they moved so recklessly and without thought, or fear. He'd always wanted to know what it would be like to fly one. They’d probably let him take one out just to test it. Actually, they _would_ let him. He wouldn’t have even need to ask. Half the people he’d met were as afraid of him as they were of his father, if just by reputation alone. He could feel it, whenever they spoke to him. The other half would learn to.

"What do you think you're doing? Who authorized you to be here?" Luke heard a sharp voice say from behind him.

He took his time turning around to see the man, clasping his hands in front of him to draw attention to the lightsaber at his waist.

The man who’d spoken to him was wearing a TIE pilot uniform, but was without his helmet. Luke saw the man’s dark eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He recognized Luke. Luke grinned, almost savagely, at the thought. He liked when people recognized him-- almost as much as he liked having people fail to, and seeing their eyes widen in fear as he demonstrated his power. "I did. Or my father, if you like. Or perhaps you want me to call Commander Jerjerrod?"

" _Yes_ , thank you, I understand, Lord Skywalker,” the man’s eyes flashed in annoyance, his voice just on the edge of disrespect. Ah, there was a bit of distaste for Luke, there. It only made his grin grow wider. The man wasn’t biting back the usual fear. _Oh_ , Luke thought, _this will be fun_. The man was standing stiffly, his helmet in his hand, as if waiting for Luke to say something. Luke was content to let him wait. Finally, the pilot asked, “What are you doing here, _sir_?” He seemed to be biting his tongue on the last word.

Luke leaned back against the wing. Instead of answering the pilot’s question, he asked, “What’s your name, pilot?”

“Captain Wedge Antilles, of the Imperial Navy.”

Luke stood straighter when he realized he recognized the pilot’s name, if not his face. _So this is the pilot that even the Emperor knows the name of?_ Luke thought. He’d heard of the unkillable Wedge Antilles. He’d been the only TIE pilot to survive the destruction of the first Death Star. Luke looked him over. The man was decent, fairly attractive, but wasn’t a face Luke thought they’d put on recruitment posters. Luke had had better-- but he’d always thought talent was a person’s most attractive feature, and from what Luke had heard of the man, he was brimming with talent. Luke wondered what he’d look like out of that vac-head uniform.

He’d heard rumors, because even Imperials talk. Heard the man was the best pilot they had, heard he had cold-space lubricant running through his veins instead of blood. He wondered if it’s true. Among the stories, Luke had heard that the man was so strict when it came to traitors that he’d once reported three of his classmates at the flight academy for treason. They were executed, Wedge was promoted. As he watched the man wait, almost impatiently, for Luke to say something, he wondered just how hot the man’s blood would boil if he knew Luke and his father’s plans for killing the Emperor and taking the Empire for themselves.

Finally Luke said, because he couldn’t help himself, “I was just inspecting these fighters.” He pushed himself off the wing, stepping closer to Captain Antilles. The man stood his ground. “I love flying. I’ve always admired the TIEs, and their pilots. So reckless, usually have an ego, though,” he said, trying to provoke the man. Antilles continued not to react. “I used to pilot X-Wings, back with the Rebel Alliance. I probably even flew with you at the first Death Star.”

He saw the man’s nostrils flare, the way his jaw clenched under his skin, biting his tongue. “If you’ll excuse me, _sir_ , I have a meeting with my superior,” Antilles said, not waiting to be dismissed before leaving. As soon as he was out of sight, Luke couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d do _something_ to get under that man’s skin.

* * *

Waiting for the Emperor’s commands, on an under-construction Death Star, was incredibly boring, Luke found. So he began occupying his thoughts with that of the pilot, Wedge. Unlike Luke, the TIE pilots were constantly sent on missions. Usually they served as escorts against Rebellion attacks, and recently they’d been escorting the ships traveling back and forth with supplies for the construction of the Death Star.

Luke had taken to waiting for Wedge to come back in the briefing room with his commander. Luke didn’t talk, for the most part, just sat back and watched the mission briefings. At the first briefing, the commander had asked Luke repeatedly if the commander could help him with anything. Luke had shaken his head, leaned back, and had laced his fingers against his chest. That made the commander even more nervous, repeatedly slipping up over his words, and looking to Luke for assurance. Luke had just smiled behind his hands.

By now, the commander had gotten used to Luke being at every meeting with them, though he rarely showed up to every command meeting he was actually invited to. Well, at least they’d pushed production ahead, he was sure the Emperor would like that.

Wedge stood stiffly as he reported to the commander. Luke leaned back in his chair, watching them. They’d lost three of the six TIEs they’d brought with them, two to Rebels, one to friendly fire, taken out by one of the previous fighters as it went down. Otherwise, the mission to Eadu was a success, and the officers had retrieved the information stored on the abandoned base there. Wedge would be reporting out the following morning for an escort mission with one of the commanders.

As soon as the commander dismissed Wedge, the commander left the room, leaving the two of them alone. At first, Wedge didn’t turn around to Luke, but finally he sighed, loudly, and turned to him. “When are you going to stop this? It’s been five meetings so far. What do you home to accomplish? Are you trying to intimidate me? Because, sir, it is not working.” He looked annoyed, and crossed his arms across his chest.

Luke shrugged nonchalantly, “I just want to…. get to know you.”

The man looked more perplexed than before, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with Luke. He uncrossed his arms, and then crossed them again, and then said sharply, “There are better ways to do that than stalk me and interrupt my meetings.”

“Like what?” Luke said, flicking his eyes up to meet Wedge’s.

The man’s eyes flared, he probably hadn’t expected Luke to actually respond. “I… don’t know,” Wedge said. “Just stop interrupting my meetings.” Then, he left.

Fine. Luke could just follow him other places, till he agreed to… something. Luke wasn’t quite sure what he actually wanted from the man, yet. He just knew he wanted him. And what he wanted, he _got_.

* * *

Just a few weeks after arriving on the Death Star, Luke was called back to Coruscant for a party at the Emperor’s request. He’d been to dozens of them with the Emperor on his tour of the galaxy. The Emperor liked to show him off-- and Luke’s father refused to attend any of them. But so far, Luke hadn’t seen the Emperor at all. The live music for the evening was an opera singer Luke knew the Emperor was fond of, and the air was full of mirth. Luke enjoyed parties-- the exuberance, the liveliness, all for the Emperor’s favorites.

Nearly everyone in the room was an Imperial officer being rewarded for good behavior, with their colorfully-dressed spouses to combat the grey. Luke himself was wearing black, wouldn’t dare actually wear an Imperial uniform. Luke glanced around the room to the refreshments table, where he was surprised to see a familiar face across the room-- Wedge. He was in a regular Imperial dress uniform, rather than the usual black of the TIE pilots. Luke crossed the room to the man, who sighed when he saw him, and then took a sip of something clear from the glass in his hand.

“You’re never at these things. I’ve been to the officers _meetings_ ,” Luke said, implying that they were anything _but_. They were usually the highest ranking officials on the Death Star at any given time drinking in the officer lounges, and Luke never turned down an opportunity to assert his presence, “which you could come to, you’re one of the highest ranking TIE officers on the ship. Why don’t you ever come to them?”

Wedge shifted his feet, unsure if he was going to answer Luke. He looked from his glass to around the room, eyes settling on something distant past Luke’s shoulder. “I don’t like parties. I don’t like schmoozing with senators. I’m here to bring order to the galaxy, not drink with the other officers,” he sighed, this time seemingly more weary of the party than with Luke.

Luke grinned, “Then why did you come to this one?”

Almost bitterly, Wedge said, “The Emperor invited me.” The man’s eyes flicked from the distant spot to Luke, and then to the ground. Then, he excused himself from Luke to go join two admirals across the room. Hardly anyone refused Luke, and though this wasn’t an outright rejection of any sort, he felt as though if he’d asked Wedge anything, he would have been. It only made Luke want him more, and that’s what he wanted-- _him_. In whatever capacity Luke could convince him to give.

He was confident that Wedge wouldn’t be leaving the party before the Emperor showed up, so Luke went off to _schmooze_ with a few senators, as Wedge had said. After nearly an hour of smalltalk, Luke’s eyes found Wedge again. He was alone, leaning against the wall, watching the party with the same clear drink in hand. Luke again crossed the room to him. He leaned up against the wall beside him. “What kind of parties do you like?” Wedge barely glanced up at him, so Luke continued, “When my father is Emperor, I’ll throw you whatever kind of party you’d like.”

“I don’t like parties, at all,” Wedge said, his tone dangerous. His eyes were dark. “Keep quiet with that kind of talk.”

Luke grinned wider, “Have you heard of the rule of two?” This time, the man was paying attention. Luke, then, pretended as if the party around them was incredibly fascinating, not looking at Wedge at all. He kept his voice low enough just for Wedge to hear, “You know…. my father and I are powerful enough to take over the Empire ourselves.”

Instantly the man’s hand was on Luke’s bicep in a vice-like grip, slamming his arm quietly against the wall. He’d turned away from the party to hiss in Luke’s ear, “Outside. Now. So we don’t make a scene.”

Luke’s eyes widened, following the man just outside into the hallway of the Emperor’s palace. Wedge didn’t release his grip on his arm, even as the doors closed behind them and the loudness of the party was dimmed to a muffled beat. As soon as the doors were shut, Wedge slammed him against the wall, dropping his glass in the process. He pressed his forearm uncomfortably against Luke’s collar, and snarled, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Saying that traitorous--” he stopped himself, his face just inches from Luke’s, his dark eyes wild. “Why the hell are you smiling like that?”

Luke had gotten what he’d wanted-- a reaction out of the man. “Who do you think the Emperor’s going to believe, Wedge? You, the expendable pilot, or me, the Sith lord?”

Wedge snarled again, pushing away from Luke, the shards from his glass crunching under his feet. “From what I hear, you aren’t a Sith yet.” Oh yes, Luke had made a very good choice.

When they returned to the party together, the Emperor had already arrived, presumably from one of his many secret access tunnels around the palace. Luke could see him surrounded by his entourage at the center of his room, with his red guards and his slimy aid. The Emperor’s yellow eyes flicked to Luke by the door as Wedge brushed past him, and he summoned Luke to his side.

* * *

As agreed upon, Luke would not be following Wedge to any more of his mission briefings. But he certainly wasn’t going to leave the man alone after the party, so instead, he followed Wedge everywhere else. He’d occasionally see the man around the living quarters on the Death Star-- for having thousands aboard, the vessel’s living quarters were still rather empty and segregated, so while the Stormtroopers certainly would not be eating with the officers, some of the more elite pilots would. He’d see him occasionally in the hangars, or in the training rooms, but after the party, Luke deliberately began seeing Wedge out.

He’d made a point to use the common officer’s training room, though he had his own on the other side of the living areas, because he knew that Wedge would be there training in hand-to-hand combat as he was almost every evening aboard the vessel.

Luke had arrived first to the training room, and had taken up a back corner usually meant for individuals using punching bags, but Luke had converted it into a lightsaber training area. He’d rigged up one of his father’s older training droids, which was armed with it’s own saber. Sometimes he armed it with a light blaster instead, to imitate blaster fire, but today he felt like working up a sweat.

Luke ignited his lightsaber, the red glow lighting everything around him. The droid activated, summoning it’s own lightsaber as Luke brought his saber down. The droid blocked him, twisting out of his way. Rather than retreat, the droid pressed on, bringing it’s own saber down forcefully, forcing Luke back.

When Wedge finally arrived, Luke was well occupied by the droid. Luke’s glancing up as Wedge walked in in training gear almost got him decapitated, so he had to parry, doing a flip over the droid to get away from it’s swinging blade. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke could see Wedge as he stepped into the sparring ring with his usual partner, one of the other TIE pilots. Luke thought about turning the droid down a notch in order to watch Wedge spar, but then he thought better of it, because just fighting wasn’t going to help his skills, he needed to challenge himself. He let the fighting go on for another fifteen minutes before besting the droid, cutting off both of its arms. The droid whirred in a circle, unhappy that it was limbless. Luke would have to send in a maintenance request later to repair it.

As Luke lifted his undershirt to wipe his brow, showing off his abs, he briefly saw Wedge glance over in his direction. He quickly went back to ignoring him, focusing on his partner, whom he knocked to the ground. Luke leaned against the deactivated droid, watching them fight. There was an intensely determined look on Wedge’s face, a sheen of sweat on his skin. Luke bit his lip.

He stood up, crossing the room quickly in strides. He stopped at the edge of the sparring ring, and told Wedge’s partner, “Get lost.”

The partner looked up, frowning, “Why should I?” He clearly didn’t recognize Luke.

“Because I said so,” Luke said, reaching out his hand, feeling the extension of the Force close around the man’s neck. The man’s eyes widened and his hands scrambled to his neck to try and peel away the Force at his neck. Luke’s grip only tightened.

“Lord Skywalker,” Wedge said, his tone warning. Luke sighed and dropped the man, who scrambled back out of the ring. Wedge’s unreadable eyes followed him out. Then, he turned back to Luke, “What do you want?”

Luke ducked his head into the ring. “I want to spar.”

The man sighed, but agreed. They circled around each other, Luke watching the man’s eyes instead of his fists. He felt the air shift around them as Wedge made the first move, aiming for Luke’s head. He ducked out of the way, hitting Wedge quickly in the ribs. The man barely made a noise, grunting. He stepped back, spinning around Luke to hit him in the kidneys. Luke winced, raising his fists. Wedge advanced further, hounding Luke. He was as tall as Luke, and certainly wasn’t better built, but he had a fierce determination. He advanced on Luke, dealing out blow after blow to Luke’s arms raised in defense, eventually landing a blow on Luke’s lip, splitting it. He hesitated for a brief second, allowing Luke an opening.

He made quick work of Wedge after that. Wedge put up a good fight, but was no match for someone with the Force, and ended up on his back with Luke looking down on him smirking. Luke offered the man his hand, but Wedge pushed it away, a sour look on his face. He ducked under the ropes, taking his towel and heading towards the communal refresher. Luke followed him, his fingers coming up to touch his bloodied lip.

Inside the locker room, he saw Wedge opening one of the lockers, his things on the bench. Luke leaned up against the row of lockers, watching Wedge with his arms crossed. Wedge slammed the locker shut, turning to Luke, “What do you want _now_?” Luke smiled innocently, shrugging. Wedge took a step back, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighed, “What can I do for you to stop following me?”

“I want dinner. With you, in my private suites.”

He could see the man biting the inside of his cheek, “Fine. I’ll tell you when I’m available.” Then, Luke let him go to the refresher alone, smirking as the man went.

\---

Instead of meeting in Luke’s private quarters, Luke instead arranged for dinner to be in one of the less-populated officer wings, in the conference hall. Luke was leaning against the table when the doors slid open, Wedge entering without knocking. He was wearing the same officer’s uniform from the party on Coruscant. Luke was sure the man had seen him looking him over, but didn’t react.

He’d had the droids set the table earlier, directing Wedge to sit across from him at the table. Luke sat down himself, and then poured himself a glass of wine from the bottle on the table. “Would you like some? It’s Alderaanian,” he said taking a sip of the dark wine. “It’s incredibly rare, now that Alderaan is, well, _gone_.” Luke had heard that Alderaan had once been famous for it’s wines, and the remaining bottles off-world were going for exorbitant prices.

Wedge’s eyes flicked up from his place, “Please,” he said, waving his hand.

Instead of summoning one of the droids, Luke raised his hand, reaching out with the Force. The bottle glided through the air, pouring the sloshing beverage into Wedge’s high-stemmed glass. Wedge eyed it sharply until the bottle sat itself down on the table next to his glass. He reached for the glass immediately, taking a large sip.

“What, you don’t like the Force?”

“No,” Wedge said, and Luke thought he was going to leave it at that. But then he spoke again, almost pushing around his food with his fork, “I don’t like things that I can’t see, and therefore can’t trust.” The _like you_ was unspoken. Luke shrugged.

Dinner continued tensely, as Luke cut into his blood-red meat and Wedge continued to pick at his food. Wedge topped his wine off twice. Luke leaned forward on the table, leaning on his elbow as he looked across at Wedge’s barely-touched plate, “C’mon, I didn’t poison you.” Wedge looked up sharply, stilling his fork. Luke leaned back, chuckling, “If I wanted to kill you, I’d do it publicly, with my saber. To make an example.”

Wedge’s shoulders relaxed, and he said dryly, “That’s comforting,” taking a large bite.

Luke laughed, unexpectedly, “So you’ve got a sense of humor.”

“Only to my friends.”

“You have those?” Luke said, reaching for his drink.

“Not anymore,” he said, as though that was his choice.

Luke leaned back, watching the man. Occasionally, Wedge would look up and meet Luke’s eyes, daring him to say, or do, _something_. When dinner was over, Wedge leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his midsection. Luke stood up, and crossed around the table to him. Wedge didn’t seem to like the uneven footing between them and stood up himself.

“I’d invite you back to my room, but… I’m not sure you’d trust me that much,” Luke said, leaning past him to pour the last of the Alderaanian wine into Wedge’s glass, taking it for himself. Wedge’s eyes followed the blood-red liquid to Luke’s lips. Luke set the glass down on the table, swiping his finger across his lip to get the last of the liquid, licking it off his finger. His eyes didn’t leave Wedge’s. The man’s eyes were dark, but what Luke could feel radiating off of him wasn’t anger. He glanced down, “Oh but you’re interested, aren’t you?” Luke dropped to his knees.

Wedge’s eyes widened. “Lord Skywalker--”

“Luke.” The man’s eyes flicked down to Luke, and then he said nothing else. Luke freed Wedge’s erection, taking it into his mouth. The man shuddered, and Luke pushed him back against the table, using his other hand to tug on it as he sucked. He began slowly, to tease him to impatience. When that wasn’t getting any kind of reaction from him, Luke began sucking harder, pulling back to lick the head of his cock, and then taking the whole thing in his mouth, lightly dragging his teeth along the erect cock. Wedge shuddered, and Luke smiled around the member, his throat rumbling as he huffed. Luke continued to stroke the cock in time with his head movements until Wedge came.

Luke pulled off the head with a _pop_. He looked up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and saw Wedge’s eyes closed, his mouth slack, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if for dear life.

Luke stood, smirking, and tucked the man back into his pants. Wedge looked at Luke, his lips just barely parted, with something unreadable in his eye. Wedge’s emotions were swirling, but overwhelmingly, Luke felt lust from him. His cheeks were just barely dusted red, but Luke felt no embarrassment. He didn’t offer to return the favor, but Luke wasn’t asking him to.

When Wedge left, Luke went back to his own personal quarters to take himself in hand, thinking of Wedge’s face as he came as Luke finished himself off.

* * *

Luke had awoken in the middle of the night to a message on his holoprojector from the Emperor. He was awake immediately upon hearing the beeping and seeing the blue light, and he was across the room instantly to answer the message. “My young apprentice,” the Emperor said, shrouded in his cloak. “Come to me immediately. It is time for your skills to be of use,” and then the line was dead.

He scrambled around his room, gathering his things and attaching his saber to his belt, and in a few minutes, he was ready to depart. He said into his comlink, “Have my ship ready for me when I arrive.”

His ship was just finishing refueling when he arrived in the hanger bay, the troopers scrambling to drag away the hoses. When he reached the Lambda-class shuttle, the trooper saluted to him, and he nodded in their direction. Past them, Luke saw two men, one in a TIE pilot uniform, the other in an officer’s, speaking over by a TIE that had just flown in. Wedge.

As if he’d heard his name being called, Wedge and the superior visibly stopped speaking, with Wedge looking in Luke’s direction. It was too far away for Luke to get any kind of reading from him, but he must have just arrived back from his mission. Luke had to go, he was due for a meeting with the Emperor, but… He hesitated, and then turned to one of the troopers. “Who’s my TIE escort?”

“Uh,” the Stormtrooper said, turning to his partner, “JA189, and OL701?” The other trooper nodded.

Luke shook his head, “I want Antilles.” The two Stormtroopers looked between each other. “What are you waiting for?” Luke said, waving his hands. “Go tell the commander. We’re leaving in five minutes.”

The two troopers nodded, and jogged over to the hangar commander. Luke entered the ship.

* * *

Outside of the Emperor’s palace, when the ships had landed, Wedge didn’t look pleased. He had his arms crossed on his chest, but he didn’t say anything, just waited with the other pilots while Luke had his meeting with the Emperor.

Inside the private throne room, the Emperor was flanked by his Red Guards. He sat high above the room on an elevated platform in front of the round windows, like the other throne rooms Luke had seen the Emperor in. He knelt at the bottom of the platform’s stairs. “You summoned me, Master?”

“Yes, young Skywalker…” the Emperor said, “The Rebels have been much more troublesome, lately. It seems it took them less time than anticipated to recover from your… desertion.” Luke bowed his head. “My spies have reported that the Rebels are being supplied by a separate Rebel faction on Barkesh after the loss of their base on Hoth.”

“What would you like me to do about it, your highness?”

“It is your job to intervene and eradicate this cell to stop the supply flow to the Rebels. This won’t be a problem for you, will it, young Skywalker? It will be your first test against the Rebels you once called your friends.”

Luke bit back the feelings of anger inside of him, thinking back to the truths his father had told him on Bespin. “No, your highness, it won’t be a problem. I can do it.”

“Very well,” the Emperor said, dismissing him. Luke stood and nodded.

* * *

“Damn it!” Luke yelled, throwing off the TIE helmet he’d borrowed as soon as he climbed out of the borrowed TIE fighter. The mission had gone badly, it was always going to go badly! “It’s kriffing Leia, I can _feel_ it!” he yelled to the nearly-empty bay of the star destroyer they’d ended up having to catch a ride back with. He never should have let her and Solo go on Bespin. He should have let his father do what he’d wanted to do with them originally instead of arranging for their freedom. Kriffing _sentimentality_.

They’d landed on the planet that had supposed to have been under Imperial control to find half the planet deserted, the other half incompetent and paid off by the faction of Rebels. The Rebel base on the planet was abandoned. The Rebels had jumped out of hiding and started firing at them, killing OL701 immediately. Luke had taken them all out with his lightsaber, slicing through all of the inexperienced recruits easily-- the Rebels were struggling after the loss of Hoth, he could tell-- but they’d managed to take out his shuttle, and the Rebel ships fled.

Luke had taken OL701’s helmet and TIE, flying with Wedge and JA189 after the Rebels. There were too many of them for three TIEs. JA189 was shot down, and both Luke and Wedge were almost hit too. They managed to destroy two of the Rebel supply ships, and take out most of their X-wings, but the rest jumped to hyperspace before they could get to them. Damn it! He looked angrily at the helmet, thinking about listening to his destructive thoughts and kicking the helmet. Instead, he heard Wedge yelling out after him, having climbed out of his own TIE.

“Luke!” Wedge yelled, “What the kriff are you doing?” He grabbed Luke’s arm firmly, forcing him to look in Wedge’s eyes.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Luke yelled back, even in the short distance between them.

“What the hell happened? Why are you struggling so much with this? Is it because they were Rebels?”

Whatever Luke was feeling, he certainly wasn’t going to reveal it to _Wedge_ , the traitor hunter. Kriff! Wedge should have been a loyalty officer. “I’m not a _traitor_. I didn’t _let_ them win.”

“Good,” Wedge said, decisively, his eyes not leaving Luke’s.

“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what went wrong! It’s like they knew we were coming!” he said frustratedly, balling his hands into fists. He looked up to see a decisiveness in Wedge’s eyes.

And then he kissed Luke. His mouth pressed into Luke’s as his hand came around to the back of Luke’s head to pull him closer. The kiss was forceful, but also gentle, almost as a way of consoling him. As quickly as the kiss came, Wedge was pulling away, leaving Luke almost gasping for breath, lips parted, leaning forward to chase Wedge’s closeness.

“Don’t let it happen again,” Wedge said firmly, but not chastising, and Luke wasn’t sure if he meant the destruction of property or the mission failure.

* * *

Luke’s father arrived with almost as much fanfare as the Emperor would have, dozens of squadrons of TIEs escorting his ship as he pulled into the hangar bay. Rows and rows of stormtroopers and all of the important Imperial officers, in both grey and black, lined up to greet him. Luke stood by Commander Jerjerrod, who stood ramrod straight behind Luke, much less eager than he had been to greet Luke just weeks ago.

The hangar was deathly silent as Vader’s heavy boots echoed on the metal-plated floors, his mask’s filtration system announcing his presence. His helmet aligned towards Luke, even if they could not see his eyes. The officers saluted him, and he dismissed them by ignoring them completely.

“Lord Vader--” Commander Jerjerrod started, but Vader looked to his son instead.

“Luke,” Vader said, and kept walking. “We have much to discuss.”

Luke turned on his heel, following at his father’s side. “Father,” he nodded. “The officer’s private conference room is this way,” he said, heading towards the turbolift.

Luke heard Commander Jerjerrod scrambling to follow them. “Lord Vader,” he said, “The Death Star is progressing well. The Emperor--”

Vader stopped, wordlessly, on his heels. The commander had to skid in his tracks to stop himself from hitting Vader. Vader turned on his heels to face Jerjerrod, the man’s eyes growing wide under his grey brimmed hat. “Thank you, Commander,” Vader said, his voice deep and raspy. “My son and I will be discussing matters vital to the Empire. Alone.”

“Yes, sir,” Jerjerrod said, saluting Vader, joining all of the other men who had been in salute since Vader’s ship had pulled into the hangar. Vader ignored them, following Luke into the lift, traveling up several dozen floors until they reached the level on which the conference room was.

As they neared the entrance to the conference rooms, two passing officers who were looking at a pad in hand stood up straight immediately upon seeing the two Sith. Luke nodded at them as they passed, letting themselves into the officer’s conference room. As soon as they were inside, Vader programed to door to shut and lock, turning off any and all surveillance that may have been on the room using his private codes that even the Emperor did not know.

Vader turned back to his son, who looked troubled. “They will learn to fear you as they fear me,” Vader told Luke, who sighed.

“Why can’t we destroy the Emperor now, Father?” Luke said, sitting in one of the swirling chairs in front of his father. Luke was growing impatient for what his father had promised him on Bespin, a galaxy shaped in their image. Vader looked down at him, and for all the time they had spent together on Mustafar, training and beginning to get to know each other after all that time, Luke felt as though he rarely knew what the man was thinking.

“Because, my son, you are not strong enough yet. You have not--”

Luke sighed, impatiently turning away from his father. “--I have not learned all that he has to teach me yet, I know,” he sighed, repeating the words that his father had repeated to him on many occasions.

“The Emperor’s teachings constitute the path to power, Luke,” Vader said sternly. “I am not yet done teaching you all that I know. Our time on Mustafar was only a fraction of the training my masters had given me. We cannot act too soon, you know well the power of the dark side.”

Luke did know it well. It was a seductive force, pulling one in with the promise of power and the answer to all of their questions. It had given Luke all that he had ever wanted. His father. The truth. The freedom to do what he wished. “You’ve told me before that he is weak, together we can--”

“Luke!” Vader said with a finality in his voice, his fist coming down on the table to rattle it.

Luke sighed, “Yes, Father.” Vader sat across from him, his hand coming to rest on the table. It had been awhile since he had seen his father, several weeks since Luke and his father had parted from the Emperor on their tour of the galaxy to show Luke to the Empire. The last he’d heard, his father had gone off to investigate... “Dagobah?”

On the table, Vader’s hand curled into a tightly clenched fist. “No,” he said. “The Emperor is…. saving that mission, for you.” Luke nodded slowly. He felt no guilt in reporting Yoda to the Emperor. Yoda’s time was long since past, the Jedi was from an age long over. The lies of the Jedi had no place in their galaxy.

“Father,” Luke said, staring at his warped reflection in the transparisteel window that took up the entire back wall of the conference room. “Tell me about my mother.”

Vader turned his head towards Luke slowly. He’d been reluctant to share anything about his late wife, even to their son. Luke often felt like asking for even her name was prying more information out of the man than he often wanted to share. The only time the information had flowed freely was on Bespin, when his father had promised never to lie to him like all of the others had. His father was the only one he could ever truly trust. He promised that if Luke went with him, his friends would be spared, and Luke would know the truth behind everything. He had kept his word.

* * *

Despite Luke’s failure of a mission against the Rebels, the Emperor seemed pleased with Luke’s overall progress, especially after Vader’s visit and continued training. The Emperor was not dissuaded, assigning Luke on another mission against his former Rebel companions. Luke often felt like this was a test of loyalty.

Luke kneeled beneath the holo image of the Emperor, who was shrouded in his usual cloke, on the main bridge of the Death Star. He’d grown used to hiding his distaste for the Emperor over time. At first he had been able to pass it off as his lingering dislike for the man from his Rebel days, and his hesitancy to accept the ways of the ways of the Empire, but the more he became entangled with the dark side, the less it was easy to conceal. His father had to teach him much, including ways to direct his anger into useful channels, like summoning the Force. And at those he once considered his friends. He was finding that particularly useful as of late.

“Where are these rumors saying the next Rebel base is, Master?” Luke looked up at the Emperor. Barkesh had been a dud, only the remains of a trap lying in wait for the Imperials. Luke would not be so foolish and unarmed this time.

The blue, grainy hologram flickered as the Emperor spoke. “I have had my aides send the known sightings of Rebels in various systems to the Death Star. You will meet up with the closest Star Destroyer and take extra protection, Skywalker,” he said, firmly. “I will not tolerate another failure like the last one.” Luke felt his hands clench at his side as he nodded at the Emperor. “It will be up to your discretion which systems to visit.”

“Yes, Master,” Luke said, nodding his head. The Holo switched off, and the room seemed to relax, if only slightly. Luke wasn’t having any of it. He stood, snapping at the nearest officer. “Bring up the star charts.”

Where the Emperor had previously been, there was now an enlarged star chart with several systems highlighted. Luke flicked past several without a second thought. Some had previously been burned by the Rebels, others were far too close for the Rebels to even think about setting up on them.

One system in the Outer Rim made Luke hesitate. He ordered the officer to enlarge the area on the map, a small system containing only one, uncharted planet caught his eye. “Sir?” the man said, turning to Luke with a questioning look on his face, “That planet is uncharted, the Re--”

Luke didn’t even have to look as he reached out, his hand closing around the man’s neck. He let the man suffer for a few moments, as he rose several inches off his chair, only to be released by Luke back into his chair. The man scrambled up, enlarging the chart of the planet.

He knew it was that system. Though it was an Outer Rim Territories planet like Tatooine had been, this planet was small, and Luke had never heard of it before. There had never been any consideration of it before now, but there was something pulling Luke there. He closed his eyes and pulled it closer to himself, the familiar sensation of the Force alerting him that he’d made the right decision.

“Lieutenant,” Luke said to the officer, “what planet is this?”

The officer didn’t hesitate to speak, though his voice was raspy, “Crait, sir.”

* * *

The closest Star Destroyer to the Crait system was the _Black Coven_. Luke’s ship was refuelled and stocked before he even reached the hangar bay, and TIE escorts were already waiting by to escort him there to pick up more troops and a bigger presence of TIEs on the destroyer. Luke was pleased to see Wedge had already been assigned to him without having to ask.

When they arrived at the _Black Coven_ , Luke departed his ship to receive any additional information from the ship’s commanding officers about the planet. They informed him that the probes sent down were picking up a large presence of life forms near one of the abandoned mines from back in the Republic days, and that would be the likely spot the Rebels would be making base in. Luke knew it to be true.

Last time, the Rebels had seen him coming. Leia knew, somehow, and most of the scouting Rebels had made it away safely. Luke wasn’t going to let that happen this time. He would wipe away the stain on the galaxy that was the Rebellion. They would not stand in the way of what he and his father would strive to build.

He knew he had to be more careful this time, so a second squadron of stormtroopers would be accompanying his ship and his several escorts. When he marched into the TIE hangar bay, Luke looked to Wedge.

“Captain Antilles, you’re with me,” Luke said, waving in Wedge’s direction.

“Sir?” Wedge asked, frowning. His helmet was under his arm, and he walked towards Luke.

“In my ship, with me and Captain Kyl.” Luke didn’t offer an explanation, and Wedge knew better than to make a scene in a full bay of other pilots. He’d rather blindly follow Luke’s orders than give up appearances. Luke snorted.

The ride down to the planets surface was mild, the turbulence limited. The stormtrooper escort landed before them on the white surface just outside the seemingly abandoned mining colony. The TIE escorts hovered back, taking a turn around the area and disappearing before Luke’s Lambda-class shuttle had even broken ground. Through the viewport as they settled in the salt, Luke could see the troopers march out in file towards the partially-completed blast doors around the mine. They looked like skeleton wiring on a gaping red mouth.

With each step the troopers made, they made red footprints in the earth, smearing like blood. Luke never would have thought that the Rebels would have picked a base so amiable to him.

Luke left the cockpit, returning to the back of the shuttle where Wedge waited. He had a blaster slung over his shoulder, and was looking almost nervously at the ramp that was beginning to lower. “I hate being on the ground,” Wedge grumbled as a way of explanation. They could no longer hear the sounds of the TIEs whirring overhead.

Luke snorted, “There’s no one I would trust more to be on the ground with me.”

Wedge rolled his eyes at the not quite truth-- but not quite lie-- as Luke rocked on his heels. His fingers were itching as he reached for his saber. He had to watch his temper on the Death Star, there were only so many officers that could replace the ones he dealt with on a daily basis.

The ground fire started before their ship’s ramp even touched the ground. As soon as their line of sight was clear through to a trench not far ahead of them, Rebel heads appeared along with their blasters. There was a split second that Luke had to ignite his saber, the red glow lighting the compartment. He saw green firing back at red, the Rebels turning some of their attention at the advancing troopers which had begun to fall in the salt.

Behind him, Wedge was cursing, ducking behind something to avoid enemy fire, occasionally shooting back at them when there was a temporary lull in fire. “I kriffing _hate_ being on the ground!” he said to no one in particular. Luke snorted.

His saber was raised, the red glow temporarily throwing several of the Rebels off. Luke easily deflected the blows aimed at him, though one slipped past and killed the pilot that was making his way back towards the ramp. Luke deflected several more of the shots, this time back at the trench, where he heard Rebels cry out. Luke could hear the thud of their bodies hitting the crystal trench.

Luke reached out his right hand, closing it around the Rebel blasters with the Force. When he pulled his hand back towards himself, he yanked all of the blasters from the Rebels’ hands, the weapons coming flying back at them to a chorus of cries from the Rebels. Luke stepped out of the ship. He felt the salt melt away under his feet into red crystal.

Rebels scrambled to get away from him, but Luke reached out and pulled those deserters towards himself. Others were braver. They stayed in the trenches, trying to take Luke out with thermal detonators or knives. Luke sliced through them all, easily. There could have been someone he recognized in that trench, but none called his name to beg for mercy. He would not have granted it. But Luke was not looking at their faces but their uniforms. They were ragged and their owners were desperate.

Luke could no longer tell what was blood and what was crystal as he stepped over bodies in the trench, heading back towards Wedge in the shuttle. At some point Wedge had stopped firing, instead standing to watch Luke in awe.

“You couldn’t have done that with their weapons earlier?” Wedge said, almost cross, when Luke entered the shuttle, sheathing his saber.

“You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?” Luke smirked as he reached up to wipe what could have been blood or crystal from his cheek. He looked down at the red smear on the back of his hand and back over to Wedge. The look of awe was still there in Wedge’s eyes, and the adrenaline in Luke’s blood hadn’t ceased rushing in his ears. He knew Wedge felt it too. He stepped over to the other man, over the pilot’s body on the floor.

Luke didn’t hesitate to press his mouth to Wedge’s. But this time, Wedge wasn’t going to let Luke push him around. He grabbed ahold of Luke, flipping them around to press Luke against the bulkhead, hungrily devouring his mouth. Luke didn’t mind the sting of hitting his head.

Wedge’s hands roamed Luke’s body until he found the clasps for the man’s pants, reaching his hand inside to grasp the man’s hardening erection. Luke’s precome was already wetting the tip of his cock, and Wedge stroked it harshly, just on the edge of too rough. Luke could feel Wedge through his pants, the erection brushing against his own in Wedge’s hands.

Luke was desperate to get his hands on Wedge’s body, fumbling with the clasps on Wedge’s uniform until he figured it out, freeing Wedge’s upper half for Luke to press himself against. “We should-- ah--” Luke said as Wedge pressed his lips to Luke’s neck, his tongue darting out to lick a vein, “take this downstairs,” he said, thinking of the dead pilot on the floor. He was not going to fuck Wedge for the first time next to a dead pilot.

They broke apart briefly, if just to slide down the ladder into the underbelly of the ship where there were slightly better accomodations, like a cot. Luke pulled Wedge on top of himself, resuming his licking open of Wedge’s mouth as he tried to get his hands in Wedge’s pants. Finally he freed Wedge, pulling himself out so that their cocks could rub together with precious little lubrication between them, the friction almost too much.

Wedge must have realized that Luke was still mostly dressed because he made quick work of divesting Luke of his clothing. Luke’s body was radiating heat, and Wedge’s frigid body was absorbing it like a dying sun. Wedge’s hands snaked into Luke’s hair, pressing their faces together as Luke reached for Wedge’s ass, grabbing it in his hand.

Wedge pulled away from Luke, sitting back on his legs, his thick red cock bulging between his legs. “Suck on it,” Wedge ordered. Luke sat up, and Wedge leaned forward to lace his hands in Luke’s hair, pulling him down on Wedge’s cock that Luke gladly took into his mouth. Luke bobbed on it, enjoying the moans that Wedge was producing. Luke licked the head, making sure the cock was good and wet. “Turn over,” Wedge ordered again, his voice husky.

Luke obeyed, flipping over and offering his ass to Wedge. Wedge’s hand came around to Luke’s mouth where he sucked on two of Wedge’s fingers. Wedge pulled them back, the wet fingers trailing across Luke’s bared ass, spreading his cheeks and pressing a finger in. Luke gasped. It had been a while, and certainly-- never with anyone he was as attracted to as he was to Wedge.

A second finger was inserted, barely giving Luke any time to adjust, the fingers scissoring him open. Then, as quickly as they come, the fingers were gone. Luke heard Wedge shuffling behind him, and then felt the fat tip of Wedge’s cock at his entrance. Wedge pushed in, and Luke cried out, pressing his forehead to the cot. Wedge barely waited a moment before he began to move, thrusting into Luke with a friction only achieved with spit, the bite of the minor pain bringing Luke over the top when Wedge had just barely touched him, his hand wrapped around Luke’s cock.

Luke cried out, releasing onto the cot, his ass clenching around Wedge’s cock, making him groan. He thrust several more times, jerky and not fully in, till he pulled out, coming over Luke’s back.

* * *

After the success on Crait, Wedge was almost exclusively assigned as Luke’s TIE escort, accompanying him on various missions throughout the galaxy. Occasionally, though, as the Empire’s best TIE fighter, Wedge would be sent on missions where Luke was not needed, leaving Luke alone on the Death Star, and ultimately, bored. Since this-- thing had started, Luke had taken up following Wedge around again, if only because he knew it annoyed him.

Luke leaned back against a TIE fighter, watching Wedgebrief his squadron of TIE fighter pilots before dismissing them to their TIEs before the next mission. He stood ramrod straight, knowing Luke was just behind him. The pilots scattered, but not too far as they were still in the TIE hangar bay, a couple of pilots huddled near their TIEs.

Luke walked over to Wedge, standing extremely close behind Wedge, who seemingly refused to acknowledge his presence. Luke leaned his head over Wedge’s shoulder, biting on Wedge’s ear, just because he knew it would annoy him. Wedge shuddered and elbowed Luke, who snickered and stepped back. Wedge turned to Luke, his pad clenched in hand.

“Not here,” Wedge said, eyes glancing back at the huddled pilots who Luke knew were not paying them any attention. And even if they were--

“What are they going to do? Sure it’s not _allowed_ ,” Luke said, as if he ever actually followed Imperial rules, “but it’s _me_.” Luke stood back at Wedge’s glare. Sure, PDA wasn’t allowed, and the Empire didn’t exactly favor men of Luke’s predilection but… no one would dare say a thing to Luke’s face, lest they have to face his wrath. They’d likely all heard about the first Star Destroyer he’d been on after his training on mustafar, and the Rumors of a Rebel spy…

Wedge shrugged him off, “You’re not the one I’m worried about,” he grumbled. He looked back at the pilots again, who had begun to scatter and climb into their respective TIEs. He pushed Luke backwards, and they ducked under the wing of Wedge’s TIE until they were shielded from the gaze of any troopers or pilots. Then, Wedge lunged at Luke, pressing their mouths together almost violently.

Wedge’s hand had snaked around Luke’s head, twisting into his hair. Wedge’s teeth caught Luke’s lip, Luke feeling a sting as Wedge pulled back, looking satisfied. “You should get back,” Wedge nodded away from the TIE. Luke walked backwards, careful not to trip over anything, until he was a safe distance away from Wedge’s TIE. Luke’s eyes never left Wedge.

Luke could taste metallic in his mouth, and his fingers went to his lip, coming back red. He grinned. He’d always been rather self destructive. He watched the TIEs enter formation, flying out of the hangar, before turning back on his heel and licking the blood from his lips.

* * *

When Luke heard Wedge had arrived back from his mission, he showed up at Wedge’s quarters with a bottle of Mandalorian ale in hand. The TIE pilot quarters were several dozen floors lower than Luke’s, but they still had better quarters than the troopers, he heard. Wedge must have just gotten back from his mission, because he was still wrapped in a towel from his sonic shower when he answered the door for Luke.

Wedge eyed the sloshing amber liquid as he stepped aside to give Luke entry into his quarters, not even bothering to ask Luke how he knew where Wedge lived. He’d asked. They were happy to point him in the right direction.

Wedge’s quarters were much smaller than Luke’s, but he had a private refresher off the side and a small desk near the foot of his bed with two chairs. Luke placed the bottle on the table, Wedge reaching for a small compartment to pull out two glasses. Luke didn’t wait to be invited to sit down, uncorking the bottle and pouring the liquid into the two glasses.

Luke reached for one of the glasses, the bitter liquid passing his lips as he looked over his glass at Wedge. Wedge didn’t hesitate in reaching for the other glass, taking a hearty swig out of it. He choked, setting the glass down on the table, and hit his chest to cough. He looked at the glass with disdain, “Sithspit that was bitter, I thought this stuff was supposed to be sweet?” He picked up the unlabeled bottle, examining it with a frown on his face.

Luke chuckled, “Ne’tra gal, maybe,” he said of the black ale. “Kri’gee is harsh enough to strip paint of a speeder.”

“And you drink this stuff?” Wedge said, lifting the glass. Luke snorted, taking another sip, finishing off his glass. He made eye contact with Wedge as he reached for the bottle, pouring himself another glass. Wedge wasn’t about to be shown up by the Sith, taking another sip from the glass, but making a face as he swallowed it.

They sat in silence for another few minutes, taking smaller sips from their glasses. Luke was beginning to feel the heat from the alcohol burning in his veins, loosening him up, so when Wedge asked, “Why are you here, anyway?” Luke answered truthfully.

He shrugged, putting his ale down. “I missed you.” Wedge snorted. Luke shrugged again. He meant it. Mostly. “It’s boring around here without you.”

Luke stood, Wedge’s eyes following him. Luke placed his hand on top of Wedge’s raised glass, pressing it back down to the table. He pulled Wedge up to him till their eyes met, and then pulled him closer until their lips did as well. This time, they took their time. Luke allowed himself to see all of Wedge this time, even in the dim lighting of Wedge’s quarters.

The last time it had been pulling clothes off of each other, blood rushing in their ears, desperate to get each other off. This time, Luke felt the raised white scars across Wedge’s torso, concentrated heavily on his back. In the harsh lighting of the shuttle Luke hadn’t been able to tell them from white skin, and they’d picked their clothes up off the floor as quickly as they’d taken them off.

When they were finished, lying there, Luke traced his finger across one of the bigger scars. He looked up at Wedge, frowning. Wedge frowned back at Luke, prompting Luke to say, “These can’t be from a crash.” There were too many of them, lacing across his body in slices, not in burns.

“They’re not,” Wedge said. “The Rebellion.”

Luke looked down at the scars again, his anger building. He was a part of that Rebellion, once. They liked to imagine they were so high and mighty, but Luke saw the casualties of war, the things they did in the name of justice. This was not justice.

Wedge, however, didn’t seen better about it at all, actually. He seemed rather stoic. So Luke kissed Wedge, hard, because he didn’t want to think about it.

* * *

Several weeks later, Luke was sent on a routine mission to Imperial Territory G5-623, once known as the Wookiee planet Kashyyyk. After meeting with the Imperials in charge of the planet, as well as the added security after the attempted revolt several years back, Luke headed for his quarters. The planet was largely unsuited for traditional Imperial housing, instead the Empire had utilized the Wookiee slave labor to build the same manner of tree houses as the Wookiees had lived in for millennia, rounded, wooden structures with thatched roofs.

Luke, unlike most of the Imperials stationed there, didn’t mind. He’d grown up on a desert planet, so the humidity and rain was always welcome. They’d passed the slave camps on their descent into the planet. Luke had a bird’s-eye view of what the Empire had done to the planet in its quest for resources. Deforestation was rampant, entire sections of the planet cleared and the beings that lived there shipped off for slave labor.

He’d been sitting at the constructed window seat, staring down at the planet for some time, when he heard a knock on his door. He knew it was Wedge. He unlocked the door with the Force, letting it swing open, even though he knew it would unnerve the man. He stood.

“Luke,” Wedge said as soon as he’d closed the door behind himself. “You were distant at the meetings.” Luke had had barely-contained anger throughout the meetings, as they talked of the slaves like they were property. “What’s wrong?”

“My father was a slave,” Luke said, his hands clasped behind his back. “He’s spent his whole life bowing to one master or another.” Wedge remained silent. He whirled around to Wedge, his fists clenched. “When my father is Emperor, when we’ve taken out Palpatine… this will all end. Never again will there be slavery in the galaxy. The Emperor promised peace. This isn’t peace.”

“You’re serious,” Wedge said, his voice almost astounded. Luke turned to the man, a somber look on his face. Wedge’s eyes had widened, but he was trying to remain composed. “I’d thought that you had been trying to provoke a reaction from me.”

Luke gave him a half cocked grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I was. But I am serious, Wedge.” It might not have been smart to tell Wedge this, in all truths, but Luke had to know. He had to know if he could trust Wedge, after everything… His eyes flicked to Wedge, who looked conflicted. “Are you going to report this to the Emperor?”

Wedge looked down at his feet. There was an anger in his eyes, and Luke knew it was because Luke was making him choose his loyalties. When his eyes flicked up to Luke’s, the burning was still there, and for a moment, Luke though Wedge was going to ask, _And if I do?_ _Will you kill me?_ Luke knew what his answer should be, for the good of the Empire.

But instead, Wedge said, “No.” The answer didn’t come from fear. At first he made no move to be closer to Luke, but the longer Luke looked at him, the more Wedge softened under his gaze until he felt compelled to step over to Luke’s side, lacing their hands together.

Luke saw his eyes reflected in Wedge’s. “When my father is Emperor, you’ll always have a place by my side.” Wedge made no further remarks, instead staring out past Luke at the decimated forests. Even if Wedge did not fully understand now, he would, in time.

* * *

Luke rolled over in his Imperial-standard sheets. It was clear neither of them were sleeping. They’d just arrived back at the Death Star after Luke had had another meeting with the Emperor. He’d gone to make further reports on his training to the Emperor. He’d been given several ancient Sith holocrons with teachings from the old masters. He’d spent hours focusing his attention on them in the old training rooms at the Emperor’s palace before he’d even been able to open one to gain the knowledge inside. The Emperor had been pleased, informing him that his father had not been able to open the same one until much later in his training.

The remaining three that Luke had been entrusted with sat on a shelf in his quarters, calling to him through the Force. He was exhausted after examining the first pyramid-shaped holocron, and wouldn’t be able to try any more till the following day. He felt the pressure of the Emperor on him to recover their secrets for himself, as his father and the Emperor both had. They would hasten his fall into the dark side.

Beside him, he could hear the rise and fall of Wedge’s bare chest. Luke stared up at the shiny black ceiling. “Have you ever met the Emperor?” Luke asked.

Wedge’s head turned to Luke, barely visible in the light from the stars outside Luke’s massive window, facing away from both of Endor’s suns. “Once,” Wedge said. There was a hint in his voice as he turned away from Luke, that he didn’t want to talk about it.

Luke’s gaze followed him as Wedge shifted under the sheets. “What did you meet with him about?”

“My talents,” Wedge said. Luke nodded, though Wedge could only hear the rustling of the pillow. Of course. Wedge was the best pilot in the Empire. Luke would have to try harder tomorrow.

* * *

The officer’s private meeting room was not as private as the name implied. While it was fairly exclusively meant for the officers to have private meetings, the room itself was just off the Overbridge, which was currently densely populated. Luke had dragged Wedge into the room, making him squirm as they passed several officers on the way into the room. Luke locked the door behind them, but without any special codes, meaning nearly anyone could override it.

Wedge was still not overly fond of public spaces, but that was half the reason Luke dragged him in there. “Luke!” Wedge said in a warning tone as Luke pushed him down onto Commander Jerjerrod’s favorite chair.

Luke dropped to his knees, unlatching Wedge’s pants, pulling Wedge’s cock out to take it into his mouth. He met Wedge’s eyes, watching him give in, and then Luke rode him until he had no other objections, making Wedge forget why he didn’t want to come in the first place.

* * *

Luke was getting bored waiting on Wedge. Wedge was several hours late to the time he and his squadron were supposed to make it back to the Death Star, so he let himself into Wedge’s room using the code Wedge had given him a couple of months back. Even though he was hours late, Luke wasn’t even thinking about the possibility that Wedge might _not_ come back at all-- Luke would know, the Force would tell him.

The quarters were small, but even Wedge had a few personal belongings that Luke could look through to pass the time. He’d already found a holo of who Luke assumed were Wedge’s parents, they looked like him enough, and a couple reading materials Wedge must have picked up from Coruscant.

After findinding the approximately three personal items in Wedge’s room, Luke climbed back on Wedge’s bed, glancing over at the built-in nightstand, where a personal communicator was laying. Luke leaned over, clicking it on. It lit up a holographic image, saying there were two unseen messages. The first was a standard medical message saying that Wedge needed to report in for his yearly medical or something, and after the first twenty seconds, Luke moved onto the next message. Or tried to.

The next message was encrypted. Luke sat up, looking down at the message with a frown. He tried a workaround, but it was to no avail. Then, he tried his personal override code, one of the highest in the Empire. Neither worked. Luke frowned down at the message, wondering what it could possibly be-- and why Wedge hadn’t said anything about it, even to Luke. He was thinking about what it could have been-- a mission from top command?-- when Luke heard the door slide open. he turned to see Wedge walk in.

“Sorry I’m late,” Wedge said after the door slid shut behind him. “There was crazy traffic on the way back,” he shook his head, “there was a three-vessel pile up that--” he stopped talking when he saw Luke with the communicator’s message displayed. “Were you going through my private communications?”

Luke leaned back on the bed, shrugging. “I got bored waiting for you.”

“Luke,” Wedge said with a frown. “Don’t do that. They’re private for a _reason_.”

“And _encoded_?” Luke said, sitting up. Wedge had to admit, encoded even from _Luke_ was a little weird.

Wedge rolled his eyes, “I gave you the codes to my room, not to my files and communicators.” He leaned past Luke to shut off the communicator to stop the beeping. “I might take that away if you keep going through my things,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, even though they both knew that Luke would just be able to get the codes again from the head of security.

“You’ve got a message from medical,” Luke told him, “you should probably get that checked out.” Wedge groaned, collapsing on the bed and taking Luke with him, hellbent on distracting Luke from the communicator.

* * *

Several nights later, Luke awoke in his quarters to the sound of the door to his quarters sliding open. He peeled his eyes open, his arm reaching out for the lightsaber at the nightstand attached to the wall by his bed, ready to use it if necessary. Instead, he heard the familiar, shuffling footsteps of Wedge, having just arrived back from a mission. Wedge must have let himself in with the codes Luke had given him. He heard the man shuffling towards the bed, losing clothes as he crossed the room.

He was surprised that Wedge had even come. Both of them had missions in the morning-- Luke didn’t have a specific time to head out, but he was leaving for Dagobah in the morning to finish what he started. The Emperor had finally decided that it was time for him to finish Yoda, once and for all.

Wedge, Luke knew, would only have about six hours to himself until he was to head out on his next mission. He’d been flying for hours, and last Luke checked, had about six kills to his name just that mission. Luke felt the dip of the bed as Wedge knelt on it, crawling in beside Luke.

“I didn’t think you’d be coming over,” Luke mumbled.

Wedge paused, “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I don’t,” Luke said. “Where else would I rather you be?”

Wedge didn’t say anything after that, snuggling in close to Luke’s side. Luke draped his arm around him, pulling him close as they fell back asleep together.

* * *

Even through the haze of the medication the medical droid had given him, Luke could recognize the sound of Wedge Antilles’ arguing voice. Luke struggled to sit up, his new hand still…. foreign to him, though it looked as human as the previous one, was cold durasteel underneath. He could see past the tangle of medical equipment obscuring his view to see a frantic Wedge, arguing with another medical droid. Wedge was still wearing his TIE fighter uniform, hadn’t even made time to change out of it. His hair was plastered, sticky, to his head, and he hadn’t even dropped his helmet off.

Wedge seemed to sense Luke was awake, because he looked past the droid, and in a split second, made the decision to dart past him to Luke’s side. “Luke,” he said, his entire being relieved at Luke being there in front of him. “I just arrived back, and I heard you’d been taken to the infirmary--” He looked frantically at Luke’s body.

The droid whirred past him, “Captain Antilles, I must insist--”

“It’s fine, 2-1B,” Luke said, waiving the droid off with his hand. The droid, despite lacking a face, seemed displeased but obeyed his orders.

Wedge reached to clasp Luke’s hand, but Luke winced as Wedge touched it. Wedge looked down in dawned horror. Luke looked at him with a shaky smile, “But I got the bastard,” Luke said, raising his new fist. He winced as he raised it, even the medication giving to him was having trouble dulling the pain of a lightsaber wound. He might have lost his hand, but the last Jedi was dead.

“You should have told me you were going after your old Jedi master, Luke,” Wedge said, “I would have--”

“What? Gone with me?” Luke said, a half smile on his face. He shook his head. “No, I had to do this alone.”

Despite that, Wedge looked relieved, the frantic, panicked look in his eyes being ruled back for any of the other Imperials, even though they were the only two in the medical bay. Wedge wasn’t betraying any emotions, but Luke had seen them. Luke felt the brush of Wedge’s gloved hand as the medical droid repeated to him what Luke had just told him. Luke now had a cybernetic hand. He’d been minorly scorched by Yoda’s lightsaber in various other areas, and had been thrown with the Force in the battle for their lives. Ultimately, Yoda had succumbed.

Luke wasn’t paying any attention. He was watching the lines of Wedge’s face.

Luke heard the sound of the medical bay doors opening, and the familiar, heavy sound of boots and his father’s respirator. The air in the room seemed to shift, everyone standing straighter, even the medical droids. Wedge instantly pulled away from Luke in order to salute Vader.

“Captain Antilles,” Vader said, assessing the man. “I must have a word with my son. You are dismissed.”

Wedge saluted the man, turning on his heel to leave the room without even so much a glance back at Luke. Luke missed the contact, even as his father looked down on him.

Vader raised his right hand, looking at it as it clenched in the air. “I lost my right hand when I was your age. To my old master-- your old master, Obi Wan Kenobi,” Vader said. Luke looked on, fascinated, but slightly confused. He knew much of his father was no longer flesh and blood, but Luke had never questioned to what extent. Still with his fist raised in the air, Vader abruptly changed the subject. “You and Captain Antilles have been quite…. obvious, in your affections.”

Luke felt his cheeks go red. He’d never felt any pressure to explain himself and his actions, not to anyone, but his father was a different subject entirely. “Father, I--” Luke began, but Vader held out his hand to silence his son.

“I am… sympathetic,” Vader said, almost as if struggling with the words. Luke saw his other fist clench. “I _understand_.” Luke thought of his mother. Their relationship had been a secret, but the way his father talked about it, they had been less secretive than they should have been. “Luke…” Vader warned, “you should not be so open about your relationship with Captain Antilles. The Emperor has a certain… habit of taking what we Skywalkers love most in order to cause us pain. Be careful, my son.”

* * *

Luke felt Wedge press against his back, his body warm from sleep. He wrapped his arms around Luke, resting his head on Luke’s shoulder as Luke looked out into space. “Come back to bed,” Wedge mumbled into his shoulder. “It’s cold.” The _I hate the cold_ was left unsaid.

Luke reached back to Wedge, pressing his metal hand into Wedge’s side. He shuttered, and said, “Stop that.” Luke didn’t say anything, though he could feel Wedge’s agitation rise in him like a cloud. He’d been feeling it more often, lately. Luke wasn’t sure what it was, but he was certain it was more than just the cold.

“You always think it’s cold,” Luke said.

“That’s because you have a transparisteel window for a wall,” Wedge said. Luke shrugged. He’d trade functional heating for aesthetics any day. The system had rotated enough near the Death Star that Luke was beginning to see the edge of Endor appearing on his horizon.

He continued to stand at the viewport for another few minutes before he relented to Wedge’s demands. Wedge crawled into bed beside him, and this time, Luke was the one pressing his face into Wedge’s shoulder. Luke could hear his heart pounding in his chest, but there was-- something he had to say.

“I love you,” Luke mumbled into Wedge’s shoulder. Luke was atune enough to know Wedge wasn’t asleep, he could hear the way Wedge’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but-- he didn’t say it back. Luke pretended that he hadn’t said anything at all.

He left for Mustafar the next morning.

* * *

Luke trained with his father. He used the time on Mustafar to clear his mind of anything but his training, days on end of nothing but practicing with his red saber and dismantling the Sith holocrons his father had collected. There would be days on end that Luke would not even see Vader, not knowing whether or not he was even on the planet, Luke so invested in his training. He always felt the closest with the dark side of the Force on Mustafar, as his father told him that the core of the planet held a Locus of the dark side.

The planet was home to his father’s residence, his personal castle nestled among the lava fields. Luke knew this was the place of his father’s defeat at the hands of Obi Wan Kenobi, the place where the Jedi had been taken during the Great Purge. He could feel the waves of their agony in the Force every time he meditated in the Sith cave that Vader had built his castle on, the place where Luke had drawn upon the dark side energy needed to bleed his kyber crystal red.

He traveled down there, into the deepest pits of the castle, to meditate. Luke was exhausted after training with one of his father’s combat droids. His father had seen his improved skills against the previous droid and moved him to a much more challenging droid. He’d spent the last three days training with it, only taking time to eat and sleep.

The cave was on the course of a lava river, the lava flowing from the cave to the lavafall at the base of Vader’s castle. Luke walked into the cave, the orange glow lighting the cave with the oppressive heat. Along the walls were symbols and writing from a time long past, that had all glowed when Luke had taken his blue kyber crystal and bled it red. At the end of the hallway there was a round stone table, like an alter, that Luke climbed upon to meditate.

When he sat upon the table he crossed his legs and closed his eyes, letting himself become one with the Force. He felt the rage of the volcanoes exploding, the agony of the planet’s history, and let himself wash away.

Luke’s eyes were forced open with the sound of Wedge’s screams ringing in his ears. The Force had given him a vision-- he could feel Wedge’s pain, his screams of agony. There was a cold sweat on his body. He searched himself and the Force-- that pain Wedge was feeling, Wedge was feeling it at that moment. It was like all of his old wounds had reopened, and his skin was on fire. And then-- nothing.

He stood abruptly, sweeping from the cave to the castle. His father was off-world, somewhere on assignment for the Emperor, so there was no one to stop him from leaving. He boarded the shuttle, flying as fast as he could to the Death Star.

When Luke arrived at the Death Star, he marched directly to Wedge’s quarters. He typed in Wedge’s code half a dozen times, but it didn’t work a single time. The codes had already been changed. Luke felt the dread inside of him rise, and he lashed out at the nearest officer who was passing by, one of the other pilots Luke barely recognized.

Luke grabbed him by the throat, dropping him at Luke’s feet. “Where is Captain Antilles?” The man looked nervously at him, the Force choke not enough to incentivize him into talking. Luke felt his anger flair, the feeling of the pain that he felt from Wedge flowing through him into the other pilot. The pilot began gasping for air on the floor, and Luke only watched.

Finally the man made aborted signals that he was ready to talk, Luke releasing him from the pain, pulling him up above himself. Between gasped breaths, the pilot managed to say, “Loyalty officers came to get him three days ago.”

Luke dropped the man as his blood ran cold. _Loyalty officers_. The slime of even the Empire. They were fanatical officers who had the right to search anyone, and do nearly anything to them in the name of Imperial loyalty. At least the Rebels believed what they were doing was _right_. And to think that-- he’d once thought that _Wedge_ could have had a place among the loyalty officers.

“Wedge isn’t a traitor,” Luke spat.

The Imperial pilot looked up at him, rubbing his neck, with an almost blank look on his face. “Sir, they never said they were arresting him because he was suspected of being a traitor.”

Luke felt his blood burning again, and in a moment, the pilot was slumped on the floor. Luke stepped over his body.

Before Luke had taken another step, his mind racing to where the loyalty officers might be keeping their prisoners-- he really should have payed more kriffing attention to the structure of the Empire that the Imperials were always trying to teach him-- he felt his communicator buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out, looking down at it in slight confusion, before a holo of the Emperor appeared before him.

“Young Skywalker…” the Emperor rasped. “You must come to me immediately on Coruscant. I have important matters to discuss with you.”

Luke agreed, numbly. What could be more important than Wedge? But Luke knew, objectively, that this was more important than that. He left immediately, giving the refueling team only minutes to refuel his shuttle or he would be taking one of theirs. He enlisted the first pilot he saw to set course for Coruscant. As the shuttle lifted off, Luke could see his reflection on the transparisteel windows against the black of space. He hadn’t slept in… how many days? His yellow-rimmed eyes seemed to be bleeding red.

* * *

On the shuttle and up until Luke arrived at the Emperor’s palace, very nearly at his doorstep, Luke had time to calm himself. It had very nearly worked until he walked into the throne room, seeing the Emperor standing on his raised platform. He was not sitting, but not quite pacing. He turned to face Luke, who had forgotten to kneel. The Emperor seemed to pay it no mind.

“Young Skywalker…” the Emperor said.

“Your Highness,” Luke bowed his head.

The Emperor’s sunken eyes on his pale face shone yellow, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a grotesque sneer. “I sense that you are eager to get back to your search for Captain Antilles.” Luke’s heart raced, his eyes unable to leave the Emperor as he paced the room. “I am sorry to say that Captain Wedge Antilles is dead.” But the Emperor didn’t sound remorseful at all. Luke could feel no trace of lying in his voice. He seemed almost giddy as he said, “It couldn’t be helped that he was killed. He was a distraction from your teachings, and had to be dealt with properly. Like your mother…. he was of more use dead.”

Luke wanted to cry out that it wasn’t true, that Wedge couldn’t be dead, but-- he could no longer feel the man when he reached out to feel him with the Force. Luke dropped to his knees, feeling as though the ground had shattered beneath his feet and his heart had been ripped, still beating, from his chest. He struggled to breath, yet after all of his training, he did not lash out. Instead, he began to harness the hate that he was feeling for the Emperor, the true, blinding hatred that he was fueling into himself, almost to the point where he felt he had never left the cave on Mustafar, the dark side was strong with him.

“Yes…” the Emperor cackled, “I can feel your anger. It makes you stronger, more focused. Use it. Destroy the Rebellion.”

Luke felt like screaming out. He had never felt grief and fury like that before, but he heard the voice of his father in the back of his mind saying that he must wait. They would take him out together. Luke choked out, through gritted teeth, “Yes, Master. Whatever you command.”

The Emperor seemed pleased, sitting back in his chair was a smug look on his face, and dismissed Luke. Luke stood, unable to even look at the Emperor. He killed the first person to cross him after leaving the room, never looking back.

Luke returned to Mustafar that evening, where he found his father once again at his castle.

“I want the Emperor dead,” Luke said. He needed not to tell his father what had happened, as he had already heard from the Emperor himself. Luke should have listened to his father.

“Soon, my son. Soon.”

* * *

For awhile, Luke played the good soldier. He threw himself back in his training with his father and the Emperor, and then he threw himself into the missions that the Emperor assigned, mercilessly taking out Rebel bases at the Emperor’s beck and call. Luke didn’t look at faces, at call symbols, he simply stepped into a TIE Advanced X-1 like his father preferred and killed them all.

On the ground, it was like they’d had a second coming of Vader. Luke sliced through their enemies like Bantha butter, capturing bases and Rebel leaders left and right, paving the way for the troopers and the Imperials to take over their systems. The Emperor had never been so pleased, having truly outdone himself with this apprentice. At that rate, Luke was projected to even outshine his father in a few years.

Back in his quarters, Luke would sit in silence and ponder. He kept Wedge’s TIE helmet. He’d taken it from the senior pilot locker room near the TIE hangar, it had apparently not been cleaned out when Luke searched it. He left it sitting on his table in his private quarters. Sometimes he would look at it and wonder what life for them would have been like if things had been different. If he hadn’t been so foolish in thinking that he would be the Skywalker that would get to have this. Luke drank.

* * *

After time, Luke began to grow impatient, and therefore reckless. More troopers began to get killed, and Luke found himself on the brink of death more than once. Only the thought of getting revenge against the man who had killed Wedge was truely keeping him going. Finally, on Mustafar, his father agreed. It was time.

The two, father and son, found the Emperor in his personal isolation tower on the Death Star. The tower was a hundred stories high, and on the turbolift ride up, the two men found themselves in silence. It felt, to Luke, like the very first time he’d gone to meet the Emperor at his father’s side. Now, a year later, things had greatly changed.

The turbolift stopped on the only floor, the Emperor’s chamber. The room was wide and smoaky, most of the light coming from the large bay windows that were patterned like those on a TIE fighter. The room reminded Luke far too much of the Emperor’s throne room on Coruscant, as the room was patterned after it.

Luke reached for his lightsaber, but Vader thrust his hand out, stopping Luke. “I sense that he is not alone.”

They looked towards the Emperor, who had his chair facing the window. As they approached, cautiously, they could make out the shape of another person at the window. A guard? Another Sith?

The Emperor swiveled his throne around to face the two Sith, but the man in the shadows stayed facing the window. The Emperor laughed as they ascended the stairs, sabers drawn and ignited, ready to strike. Then, the man stepped out of the shadows.

It was Wedge.

Luke faltered, unable to breathe, forcing his father to fall back as well. Vader stood back, watching it all unfold, waiting for his son. They all knew Vader could not take on Sidious alone.

“Wedge--” Luke said, reaching out his hand. He was-- devastated, and confused. Luke couldn’t say another word.

The Emperor steepled his fingers, chuckling as he said, “It turns out your lover Wedge _is_ more useful to me alive than dead, Luke.” He glanced back at Wedge, who looked to Luke with a steely-eyed gaze, betraying nothing. “Shall I explain? Or shall I have Captain Antilles explain?”

Then, as if he’d been pushed, Wedge stumbled forward. His gaze never left Luke’s as he began speaking. “After you bragged about your plot to kill the Emperor, I went to him after the party to warn him.” Wedge’s eyes betrayed nothing. “He… knew of your predilection for men from your time on Coruscant and the tour,” he said, and at that the Emperor’s face was mild with disgust, “and wanted to manufacture the same feelings…. Lord Vader had had for your mother so that it would push you over the edge if I died.”

“Spying on you was just a bonus,” the Emperor said. “Planning on freeing the wookiees when you’ve killed me?” he said. Luke’s eyes shot to Wedge, who was now no longer looking at either man. Luke felt hatred and resentment, but he could not be sure towards whom.

“I don’t understand,” Luke said, his fists clenched at his side, his nails biting into his palm until he could feel the sticky wetness of blood.

The Emperor laughed again, “It worked out quite well, how Captain Antilles would report back all of the _sweet nothings_ you lovers would whisper in the night. Disgusting, your _predilection_ ,” he practically spat. “But of course, a man like Captain Antilles who did not trust you at all,” Luke’s eyes did not leave Wedge’s face, even if Wedge looked up at him, his eyes steeled as if he was meeting the gallows, “But of course…. Captain Antilles had to go and fall in love with you.”

Luke sucked in a sharp breath, searching Wedge’s face, his feelings, to know if that was true. But he was still shielded from Luke, and he could feel nothing.

The Emperor shrugged, “But even our best TIE fighter pilot is expendable.” Luke’s eyes snapped to the Emperor. “Interested now, are you?” the Emperor cackled. Luke seethed with hate for the man. “I will give you one last chance to redeem yourself: Kill Captain Antilles. Free yourself from the burdens of the flesh.”

Luke only stared at the men. He felt completely and utterly betrayed by all that he had ever known. Wedge had gone to the Emperor and reported him, and then continued reporting back everything that Luke had ever told him in confidence. Had he told him how Luke liked to come? Had he told him the night that Luke had foolishly confessed his love to him, thinking what they had meant anything at all to Wedge?

Despite that, he still loved Wedge.

Seeing Luke taking too much time, the Emperor raised his hand to strangle Wedge. Wedge rose above the ground, struggling, a resigned pain in his eyes.

Luke saw red, and raised his lightsaber.

There was a blur. His father joined him in the fight, Force lightning striking out at them that Luke had to stop before it reach his father. But the Emperor was weak and old, and the two men eventually overpowered him. When the Emperor’s body was cold and dead on the floor, Luke finally had the chance to reach for Wedge.

Wedge had collapsed on the ground behind the Emperor’s throne. Luke rushed to his side, taking him in his arms. When Wedge came to, Luke was still holding him. Wedge looked up in his eyes. “Why have you not killed me already?”

“The Emperor is dead, long live Emperor Vader,” Luke said. Wedge still looked confused. “Was it true what you told me? What the Emperor said?”

“Yes, all of it,” Wedge looked bitterly back towards the body of the Emperor. He seemed resigned to his fate.

Luke was quiet. Then, he asked, quietly, “Even the part where he said you loved me?”

“Yes,” Wedge said, his eyes returning to Luke’s. Now that the Emperor was dead, Luke could feel Wedge again, more than just a solid warmth in his arms. “I didn’t _mean_ to,” he said truthfully, but almost bitterly. “I had my orders. But I went and fell in love with you anyway, you were so persistent.” That almost made Luke laugh, the tone that Wedge had always taken with him when they were just getting to know each other. “I wanted to get out that night,” Wedge said, his hand reaching up towards Luke’s face, “The night you told me that you loved me.” His hand made contact with Luke’s face, if only for a brief moment before dropping off. “But you don’t say no to the Emperor. When the loyalty officers came knocking on my door that night, I knew I was done. The plan had always been to fake my death to hurt you, and then to come back and hurt you more. I’m sorry.”

Luke’s eyes snapped to Wedge. Both men were silent, but neither of them could look away. “You did a terrible job at seducing me,” Luke finally said, with a half-cocked grin.

Wedge snorted, shaking his head. “That was only half of the plan. But yes, I know. You did a much better job at seducing _me_.” Neither of them dared say a word, but it seemed that Wedge was itching to speak. He asked, “What will happen to me now?”

Wedge was a heavy weight in Luke’s arms, like a lopsided scale that weighed everything Wedge had ever done against him. But… Luke was selfish. And he couldn’t take losing Wedge again. “Were you ever really listening to the things I said to _you_? I meant them.” He looked up at Luke, perplexed. “When my father is Emperor,” Luke recalled, “you’ll always have a place at my side.”

* * *

_Epilogue:_

“He’s insufferable!” Luke said, “He’s always, ‘Luke, take out this entire Rebel faction!’, ‘Luke, appease the senators!’, ‘Luke--’”

Wedge groaned beside Luke, rolling over and pulling the sheets up to his ears. “Please stop. You’re going to give me an aneurism talking about our _new_ Emperor that way.” He’d only ben crowned last month, in the wake and confusion after Sidious’s death. Vader had always been a very hands-on and independant leader, but Luke knew he was reling in the chance to be the one truly making the orders for once, not repeating Sidious’s.

“C’mon,” Luke said, “you know I’d look so much better on the throne than he does.”

Wedge was silent, but he finally sighed, “Fine. But can we please stop talking about your father in bed?”

Luke huffed, but moved in closer to Wedge to press his bare skin against Wedge’s new scars. They’d healed poorly, but they’d been working with the surgical droids for skin grafts that would make them less painful, Force knows Wedge didn’t care about how he looked. Luke raised his face to get closer to Wedge’s, just a hair's breadth away from Wedge’s face.

But before he leaned in to kiss him, Luke said, “Can we talk about our mission tomorrow to hunt down the Organa princess and the smuggler?”

Wedged shoved Luke off, but Luke only fell back laughing. “If you want to talk about work, we can get down to business, _Lord Starkiller_ ,” Wedge said, shoving his hand down Luke’s pants, effectively shutting him up.


End file.
